


Ink and Parchment

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-27
Updated: 2007-08-18
Packaged: 2019-01-19 02:14:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 49
Words: 13,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12401004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Remus receives a letter from Sirius on the night of the full moon only a few weeks after resigning the Defense Against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts.  An ongoing exploration of the politics and prejudices of wizards, werewolves and Muggles.





	1. July 7, 1994

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

**Title:** Ink and Parchment

**Author:** afterthree

**Summary:** Remus receives a letter from Sirius on the night of the full moon only a few weeks after resigning the Defense Against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts. An exploration of the politics and prejudices of wizards, werewolves, and muggles.

**Spoiler Warnings:** There will most assuredly be spoilers for Prisoner of Azkaban and Goblet of Fire. Warnings for Order of the Phoenix are pending. Half Blood Prince spoilers might be glimpsed, if you squint, on the distant horizon.

**Author's Note:** I'm not usually the sort of person who publishes works in progress. In fact, I'm not usually the sort of person who even reads works in progress. I prefer to have everything neatly wrapped up before sharing, a process which usually includes at least a week of solid editing and another of merciless beta reading. Having said that, I have always wanted to write a story composed entirely in letters, and I have been tossing this plot idea around for quite some time. The two seemed well suited. 

This is more of a personal exercise that I'm offering up for comment and feedback. I have the basic structure of the plot worked out, but aside from that, I'm going to do something completely out of character for me and just sort of… see what happens. Forgiveness is begged for this indulgence. Every effort will be made to keep this within the boundaries of current canon. I will also attempt to update often, though my schedule tends toward unpredictable, due to the nature of my work. This will likely come in spits and spurts.

I also warn that I have very little practical experience in many of the voices I'm going to attempt to write. Feedback on character (or anything, really) is appreciated. I am doused in flame-retardant, so let 'er rip.

Each letter will be it's own chapter, for the sake of simplicity and clarity. 

 

*** 

 

July 7, 1994, 10:43pm

Moony:

I need your help as soon as you recover from tonight's moon. Sooner, if you can manage it. I don't want to say much here in case this letter goes astray, but someone's been injured and I can't take them anywhere for help due to my picture being posted on every blasted fence post and in every bloody newspaper. I am doing what I can, but my healing spells aren't exactly what they used to be.

Come quickly. I'm at the place we used to go every month after we graduated.

Padfoot


	2. July 9, 1994

July 9, 1994, 12:04pm

Professor Dumbledore,

I sincerely hope this letter finds you and only you, as I've trusted more to ink and parchment than I should, but I can see no way around it.

Two nights ago I received an urgent letter from Sirius requesting my immediate assistance. I responded as soon as I was able, the letter having been delivered before the sun came up on Sunday morning. It wasn't until the early hours this morning that I felt well enough to Apparate.

Sirius has spent the last week in a disillusioned and derelict farmhouse just north of the village of Abbotsley. Sparing the details for the sake of urgency, late Saturday night Sirius intervened in what he believes was a werewolf attack on a woman who may live in the area. Judging by the resistance her wounds seem to have to basic healing charms, Sirius is likely correct. 

She needs immediate and trained healer attention, but my condition is too well known by now for me to take her to St. Mungo's. I would be immediately suspect for having bitten her myself, and it is likely Magical Law Enforcement would be notified. I don't know how well you know the bylaws, but werewolves who attack - even accidentally - are not treated lightly, and as I have no witness to my own whereabouts for the same full moon, I don't image I'd receive more than the formality of a trial.

Sirius and I will do what we can to improve her condition, but our field healing skills are no match for these kinds of injuries. Please come quickly. 

There is an old milestone south east of Abbotsley. Sixty paces due west you will find a large, flat rock hidden in the underbrush. Ten paces north of that is the entry to the farmhouse. We're in the storm cellar underneath – access is from the kitchen under the floorboards in the pantry.

Remus Lupin


	3. July 13, 1994

July 13, 1994, 11:30am

Moony:

Buckbeak and I are well out of the country now, and headed further south. At some point I'll let myself be seen - rest assured it's on purpose, and far from where I'm actually going. I do remember how you like to worry about these things.

I hope that woman is doing better now that she has a proper healer looking after her. I'm no expert, but the look on Dumbledore's face was enough to tell me it was serious. I wish I could have been more help.

I'm sorry for the things I said that night. Some of them were pretty horrible, even for me, and we both know that's saying something. I wasn't ready for how it would be with people after all that time. Sometimes it feels like longer than twelve years, and sometimes it feels like so much less, like I've only been away from the world for a few months. I forget that time passed out here, too. And the truth is, I didn't deserve for you to trust me since I didn't trust you. Peter fooled both of us in the end. Bloody, fucking Peter.

I'm also sorry this whole blasted ordeal lost you the first really decent job you've had. I think you once told me my timing was impeccable, except when it was deplorable; obviously, some things can't ever change.

Please write. We were good friends, once, before everything fell apart. There must have been a good reason for it.

Padfoot


	4. July 15, 1994

July 15, 1994, 3:22pm

Dear Padfoot;

We still are good friends, you great arse. If we managed through lycanthropy, raging pureblood relatives, armies of Slytherins, and Voldemort, we can certainly pick our way across this. They were just words, and I've had too much experience ignoring words to have let them cut too deeply. Besides, there's something very familiar about you lashing out randomly then back-peddling like mad just in the nick of time. Your timing's not the only thing that hasn't changed. And I think we both know there was some truth in what you said, even if there wasn't tact (even more of the Padfoot I remember that hasn't changed) but it's done. We could go around saying we were sorry for another twelve years, or we could just let it be.

I've been the last marauder for far too long. It's not an easy job to fill on your own.

Speaking of jobs, don't bother with that either. It was really only a matter of time with Snape lurking in the corners waiting to pounce anyway. I count myself lucky to have made it an entire year.

The woman is doing better, I think. Reading between the fussing, Madame Pomfrey (who, by the way, is just as intimidating a woman to a full grown man as she is to a twelve year-old boy) seems to be confident about her recovery. She woke up for a few minutes on Friday night, but Pomfrey gave her a strong sleeping draught almost immediately after, and she's been out ever since. Pomfrey tried to convince Dumbledore to take her to St. Mungo's, but he refused, and it only occurred to me today why:

We're fairly certain she's a Muggle.

If you think I've got the sharp end of the licorice whip, that's nothing compared to how the Ministry treats Muggle werewolves. The general policy is to uphold the Statute of Secrecy to the letter, and many of them don't even know what's happened to them. Rumor has it the Registry sends out Enforcement once a month to round them all up, drop them into cages in the bowels of the Ministry for the night, then Obliviate them all and drop them off at home the next morning to recover on their own without any clear idea of what happened. 

I don't know how much of that is true (if any of it) but I don't think Dumbledore wants to take any chances. Living like this is bad enough, never mind not knowing what's going on. I think he's planning to tell her everything and to hell with the Statute. If she reacts all right to the news, the Ministry will treat her the same way they treat Muggle-born parents, I think. I hope.

Dumbledore's asked if I would mind staying here for a few days, to help him get her to understand about wizards and magic. And about werewolves. I'm not really looking forward to those conversations. So I'm back in the rooms I spent the last year in, like I only went on holiday. 

Safe journey, Padfoot. Be careful.

Moony


	5. July 16, 1994

July 16th, 1994, 9:15am

Dear Severus,

Yet again, I find myself in need of your most excellent potion making skills. While I would prefer not to pull you away from what I am sure is a most enjoyable holiday, circumstances have compelled me to ask you back to the school.

Kindly obtain any of the necessary ingredients and supplies for the Wolfsbane Potion that might no longer be in stock here and return prior to the second of August. Hogwarts is currently host to guests who will benefit for having it but are inable, at present, to obtain it through the Werewolf Registry's Wolfsbane Distribution Program at St. Mungo's.

This is, for now, a matter of some secrecy. I trust, as always, in your discretion.

Your Friend Most Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore


	6. July 17, 1994

July 17, 1994, 4:01pm

Magical Creature Research and Field Office, Cornwall

Dear Mr. Bertrand Turcotte:

Please accept this letter of interest as application for your open position of Field and Research Assistant, with preference of specialization in Dark Creatures Capture and Observation.

I graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with NEWTS in Charms, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Care of Magical Creatures. I have since obtained a certificate of professorship in the fields of Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts, both by correspondance. I have received positive written evaluations and references in both fields.

In the previous year, I was able to put my skills to practical use at Hogwarts School, where I taught first through seventh year Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, including both OWL and NEWT level subjects. I received excellent peer review over all, and under a year of my tutorship the average grade of classroom work rose from 'Acceptable' to 'Exceeds Expectations' in each year.

I am extremely organized and highly motivated, as well as accurate. I work well under pressure and in the field. I feel I will continue to excel – particularly in the fields relating to Magical and Dark Creatures – and would appreciate the opportunity for an interview at your convenience. Please see attached letter of recommendation from Headmaster Albus Dumbledore and my personal Curriculum Vitae. 

Thank you for your consideration.

Sincerely Yours,

Remus Lupin


	7. July 18, 1994, 7:10am

July 18, 1994, 7:10am

Dear Remus,

Our young woman guest awoke late last night. Thanks to Madame Pomfrey's skills and several days of sleep, she has regained much of her strength, and though her injuries are still healing, I had the opportunity to speak with her for two hours before Poppy shooed me away and insisted on further bedrest. 

I am pleased to report she seems quite receptive, considering both her state of health and the shock of being introduced to our world. I am optimistic that she will be quite capable of handling this intrusion on her Muggle life.

We would be grateful of your company for breakfast this morning, if you would join us in the Hospital Wing.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore


	8. July 18, 1994, 6:52pm

July 18, 1994, 6:52pm

Headmaster,

I refuse so much as to brew a cup of lukewarm tea for that cozener miscreation, Lupin. Tell the wolf he can make his own potion, much good may it do him. I want nothing to do with it.

Severus Snape 


	9. July 19, 1994

July 19, 1994, 5:30pm

Dear Hagrid,

As we discussed this afternoon, I have attached Ms. Mackenzie's short list of items she would like from her home in London that would make her stay here more comfortable. She regrets that she lost her keys in the attack, but I have assured her you will manage to make your way in and out without disturbing her neighbors. I grant you full permission to use the necessary charms.

I have also attached a personal note that I would very much appreciate you to hand deliver to Professor Snape at Spinner's End while you are in London.

As always, I thank you.

Most Gratefully Yours,

Albus Dumbledore


	10. July 20, 1994

July 20, 1994, 11:55am

Dear Severus,

Your reply seems to have chanced to go astray; I suspect a summer storm to be the culprit. No matter, as I know you can be counted on for your assistance in the previously corresponded matter, regardless of any personal enmity you may harbour toward the individual who requires your kind help.

Please advise Hagrid of your exact date of arrival, and I will ensure your rooms are aired out prior to your return.

Your Sincere Headmaster,

Albus Dumbledore


	11. July 23, 1994, 10:00am

July 23th, 1994, 10:00am

Adler Apothecary, Diagon Alley, London

Mr. Adler:

Please see the attached for a listing of the items I require. Also include one Standard Size 7 Silver Cauldron; solid silver only, not plated.

Do not deliver this order to my usual summer address. Send directly to Hogwarts, arriving no later than the first of August. 

The bill may be sent on to Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, same address.

Do not include my usual discount.

Signed,

Severus Snape

 

 

***

 

Author's Note:

Please note that all dates are not when the letter was written, **but when it was received**. I realize where the date is may have caused some confusion as to the timeline. 


	12. July 23, 1994, 12.10pm

July 23, 1994, 12:10pm

Dear Hazel:

Goodness, here we are, another summer nearly half gone and we've hardly seen each other again. Isn't that always the way? I finally come for a good, long visit and then Albus shows up and bustles me away before we've even had proper tea.

Not that he didn't have good reason, but I often worry about him, taking on all the troubles of the world like he does, poor man. Mark my words, if he keeps this up at his age, it will be him laying in my hospital wing one of these days, and then heaven help us all.

This time it's a Muggle. Unfortunate creature, the poor dear managed to get mixed up with a werewolf of all things. Oh, but you mustn't spread it around! Albus is terribly concerned how she'll be treated if the Ministry finds out too soon. Did you know they get stunned and put in cages every month, the Muggle ones? What foolishness, honestly. No one appreciates what regular stunning does to the body over time, they think it's all harmless. Harmless! Any half-wit healer knows different, but do they ever listen to us?

And don't get me started on the Obliviators! Every time I read about another batch of Muggles that have had their memories meddled with, I want to march them down through the Spell Damage ward in St. Mungo's and show them just what those awful spells can do! Why, half the beds there have something or other to do with memory charms.

Anyway, Albus is bound and determined to prove that a Muggle is perfectly capable of handling the condition, especially now with the Wolfsbane Program. I admit I wasn't convinced at first (the bites were quite serious, and it took her ever so much longer to heal, being a Muggle, poor dear) but she's seems a resilient thing, this one. Nice girl. Such a shame, really.

Are you and Keating going to be around on Sunday? Only I thought I might stop by for tea, now that Ms. Basil (that's her name, Basil, pronounced the American way with that peculiar hard vowel) is doing much better. Perhaps I could stay on for a few days? I'll have to be back for her first moon, obviously to help her recover, but it would be so nice to have a few days away.

You will keep all this quiet, won't you? I really shouldn't have said anything, but there just isn't anyone to chat with here during the holidays. Pince usually stays on, as does Hagrid, but neither of them are much for conversation. That nice Mr. Lupin has been kind enough, but he and Albus are a little preoccupied with the Muggle.

Between you and me, I wonder about him. Remus Lupin, I mean. He came with Albus when he brought the girl in, and Albus does insist Remus had nothing at all to do with it, but it's a bit of a coincidence, isn't it? I just can't see him being involved, he does try so hard to be very careful about his condition, but accidents can happen to the best of us. I suppose if Albus is quite sure, then I shouldn't worry, but with all this secrecy, I admit I can't help myself. 

But I suppose I'm just being silly, aren't I? I do remember him as a boy, and he was horribly bad at hiding his guilt when he would come in here after one of those silly pranks gone wrong. And there's nothing like that about him now. A fair amount of concern, but not a single guilty look, come to think of it. Now, that does make me feel a bit better about it all.

Goodness, look at me, prattling on and on like I do. At this rate it'll be Sunday before I even get round to sending this! Give Keating my best, and I hope we'll see each other soon.

Your loving sister,

Poppy


	13. July 24, 1994, 8:44am

July 24, 1994, 8:44am

Dear Basil,

I hadn't the heart to wake you so dreadfully early, but I thought what a lovely thing it might be for you to wake up and see your own things waiting for you here on the table.

Hagrid was thoughtful enough to also include a few pieces of mail that had be left under your door, and has kindly offered to deliver any responses you might require, as our owl post might draw unwanted attention at this time.

I shall visit at a more decent hour, if you would oblige me your fine company, and we may continue our conversations. If you are feeling up to it, perhaps a walk round the grounds and a change of scenery would be just the thing.

Most sincerely yours,

Albus Dumbledore


	14. July 24, 1994, 8:47am

July 24, 1994, 8:47am

Basil,

Stop hermiting yourself away in there, already. You've been home for two days now and you haven't even rung me to tell me how your trip through the country was. If you're not careful, I might take this snub personally and never talk to you again.

Some of the girls from my office fancy a night out next weekend, and I thought what a perfect opportunity for you to make some more friends (yes, I know how much you love me and all, but how horrible to think I might be the only person you talk to) and to have some "smashing" fun. 

I won't take no for an answer. I'll stop by and pick you up Saturday night. You had bloody well better ring me before then (or e-mail, whatever), or I'll have to do something rash. I haven't thought what yet, but it'll be unpleasant. At least annoying.

See you Saturday!

Margaret


	15. July 24, 1994, 8:58am

July 24, 1994, 8:58am

Ms. Basil Mackenzie:

Your preferred start date of September the third is acceptable, and I shall pass it on to your department head. Enclosed is the necessary paperwork that must be filled out by that time.

We look forward to having you join our team here, and will see you on the third.

Geoffrey Pound

Head of Costume, Middlemiss Costume and Prop House, London


	16. July 24, 1994, 9:01am

July 24, 1994, 9:01am

Attention Ms. Mackenzie:

Your luggage is currently being stored at Abbotlsey Bed and Breakfast and will not be returned until your outstanding bill is paid in full. As no indication or note was given as to when you departed, nor instructions as to what was to be done with your personal affects, we have charged you the full amount for your stay with us in addition to a storage charge for the suitcase, minus the meals you did not attend.

Please see attached bill, which would please us to be paid no later than the thirty-first of this month.

Signed,

Mark Stewart

Manager, Abbotsley Bed and Breakfast


	17. July 24, 1994, 9:10am

July 24, 1994, 9:10am

Dear Basil,

How are you doing over there across the ocean? I know you've only been gone a few weeks, but your foolish father can't help himself. I miss you a lot and worry about you constantly, as a father is bound to miss and worry about his daughter, even when she is old enough to take care of herself as you always remind me.

You'll be happy to know that Bridgette is very upset that I'm already sending you a letter. She thinks I should at least allow you a month or so to set yourself up in London before I start pestering you in every medium. Ha! Shows what she knows. Besides, you haven't called enough. Your dear old dad's heart can't take it when you don't call, so do me a favour dear and pick up the telephone a little more often.

Is London still as noisy as I remember it being? I'm sure it is. I'll never understand why you like to live right in the middle of a big city like that when you could be out in the suburbs somewhere. Your mother was like that, too. I guess it came from having been raised in the country. What's your excuse, I wonder? Just my luck, to have been blessed with a mad woman for a daughter.

I suppose you and Margaret are picking up right where you left off, eh? Thick as thieves. She'll get you back into the swing of things in London, show you all the best clubs and things. Do your father's heart a favour and keep away from the questionable men. I'm not there to defend your honour, after all, so you'll have to take that into your own hands. Take care of yourself, Basil. And phone! Don't forget to phone!

I'm glad you've decided to stay permanently in your grandfather's house. I feel much better knowing you're in a house in a decent neighborhood and not a dirty apartment building somewhere with a skeezy room-mate. I think he left it to you for exactly that reason, ever since you started talking about moving back.

Bridgette and I are sorry we couldn't make the funeral, but I don't think he would have minded. He never completely forgave me for moving you and your mother across the Atlantic. You were there, and that's all that would have really mattered to him.

Bridgette sends her love, and also tells you to phone, if only so I'll shut up about it.

Love Always,

Dad


	18. July 25, 1994, 4:01pm

July 25, 1994, 4:01pm

Dear Moony,

It's appalling to hear that, in twelve years, the Ministry might still have a stick up its arse about werewolves. I had thought, when you mentioned the Wolfsbane Potion that night in the Shrieking Shack, that finally something constructive was being done to help the people cursed with it, but it sounds like it's mostly the same old nonsense. And if what the Muggles go through is anything like what you did, it's a wonder if any of them manage to survive it. 

Perhaps you should go and give the Minister for Magic and a few of the old fuddy-duddies in the Wizengamot a nibble, then maybe they'll do something constructive about the problem instead of making it all the more inconvenient.

How's the latest "furry little problem" coming along, then? I'm assuming by now you've caught her up and told her everything. Extremely bad luck for her, being bit when she's a Muggle. Not that it'd be any better luck if she were a witch, but at least she'd have some idea of what to expect. I've always wondered what it's like for the Muggle-borns and their parents, having spent their whole lives not knowing anything about us and then one day waking up and finding out there's this whole other world going on right under their noses.

I received a letter from Harry the other day. It was quite the read (nearly two feet of parchment, I'm surprised the owl could fly straight with that thing hanging off its leg) and he managed to tell me a lot of the things I've been wondering about, all these years. How he's grown up, who he's lived with, how school has been for him, all those things I should have been there for if I'd been a proper Godfather. I can’t help but wonder if I hadn't gone after Peter, if I would have been more like you and gone straight to Dumbledore and told him what happened, maybe then at least Harry could have been spared some of the unhappiness he's had through his life. I can't help but wonder if that's what James would have wanted me to do. The one time it really mattered for me to do the responsible thing, and I couldn't keep my head on straight enough to think things through.

It's a nasty thing to play, the "what if" game, isn't it? There's no hope in it, thinking about all the ways it could have turned out better. It's a bad habit I picked up. I'm not sure I’ll ever stop playing it now…

At least I can be thankful that Harry's had the good sense not to let circumstance stop him from being a good kid. Reminds me a lot of Prongs, the way he writes. Apparently he's got his relatives scared witless that I'll come and murder them all in their beds if I hear they've been treating him poorly, clever boy. I probably would too, come to think of it. (That was a joke, Moony, so you can stop frowning in that way I'm certain you are.)

Buckbeak and I are enjoying the sunshine and warm weather. I can't believe I never bothered to travel before, now that I've been forced to. We've stopped to rest for a week or so, but I think we'll continue on. I admit I'm feeling a bit restless after so long in a cell, and I can't get enough of the open air and the wind in my face when we're flying. I never used to see what you did in Magical Creatures, but I'm finding a decent enough companion in this Hippogriff. Bit like a haughty, oversized cat, really. 

Padfoot


	19. July 25, 1994, 4:47pm

July 25, 1994, 4:47pm

Dear Mr. Lupin:

I have received your application and inspected both your Curriculum Vitae and letter of recommendation. You appear to be both interested and highly qualified for the position. 

It would be my pleasure to meet you for an interview at our Field Office here in Cornwall on the 30th of July at 10:00am. Please bring a full list of references.

Signed,

Bertrand Turcotte

Senior Researcher, Cornwall Office


	20. July 26, 1994

July 26, 1994, 6:01pm 

Margaret,

I've been having such an unbelievable time on holiday that I entirely forgot to call or drop you a postcard. What a horrible friend I've become. You see what thirteen years in the States will do to a girl? You ought really to disown me.

Anyway, I know I'm supposed to have been back already, but I've met some fantastic people and since I'm responsibility-free all summer for the first time in five years, I thought I'd do something completely outrageous and extend my holiday. Just like that. On a whim. I am enjoying this holiday thing. Probably too much.

Currently, I'm staying near a nice little town in Scotland with friends I've made. Don't fret, they're almost perfectly normal people, just like you. (Please note the word 'almost', used very specifically to include yourself, you potty wench.) The weather is fine and the country-side is a refreshing change. 

In short, don't bother about me, I'll be back eventually (likely the first week in August, but don't quote me on it) and I'm having an absolutely remarkable adventure which was exactly what you told me to do, so it's all your fault really.

Yours,

Basil


	21. July 30, 1994, 8:34am

July 30, 1994, 8:34am

Basil:

I found this book in the Hogwarts library several days ago and thought you might be interested to read some of it for yourself. It is one of the few written on lycanthropy that covers non-wizard werewolves in any detail.

I have marked the relevant pages and inserted notes into the text to help clarify some things for you, since this was written specifically for Wizarding scholars and researchers. Some of the language and concepts are likely to be foreign to you. If there's any part I've failed to properly explain, take note of it and we can discuss it when I return.

I should be able to stop by the Abbotsley Bed and Breakfast for you to settle your bill sometime this afternoon; I don't expect my interview to run terribly late. I'll probably be back later tonight or early tomorrow morning.

Wish me luck!

Remus


	22. July 30, 1994, 10:47am

July 30, 1994, 10:47am

This first section concerns the nature of lycanthropy specifically, which I've marked thinking you might be interested in a bit of the "science" as you called it, or as close to it as I can provide you. While historians argue over the actual origins of lycanthropy and the details of how and why it began, there tend to be two major fields of thought.

The first (and least popular) theory in the research community is that werewolves are in fact naturally occurring "magical creatures" that reproduce much like common viruses, infecting a host and using the host to spread itself to others. That there is some sort of living "creature" that passes and lives directly in the blood of the infected party. Some theorize that the transformations align themselves with the phases of the moon as a mating ritual or cycle, the night of the full moon being the best time for this creature to procreate itself.

The second and more widely accepted theory considers that the transformations are no more complicated than a typical human to animal transfiguration (changing from one shape to another). The werewolf transformation differs from traditional transfiguration in a few significant ways: First, that actual transformation is accompanied by severe pain, something not usually associated with ordinary transfiguration (it is often uncomfortable, but not unbearable); Second, that the individual in question does not themselves control the transformation, but rather it seems to be triggered by the full moon specifically; and third, that lycanthropy is passed from person to person by way of a bite that specifically draws blood.

Because of this, many people believe that lycanthropy is the result of a particularly complex and nasty set of curses that were mixed and cast over top of a transfiguration model. Individual curses that operate like each of the described are not unheard of, though they tend to be difficult to perform and require a high level of knowledge and power. Even more considerable is the twining of several already complex curses so that they all interact together in a particular fashion, such as this.

Some scholars suggest that the witch or wizard responsible for creating the original curse may have gotten the idea from Muggle folklore, rather than the other more obvious conclusion that the folklore came as a result of werewolf attacks.

I should point out that the vast majority of the unlearned magical community believes lycanthropy to be some kind of unnatural combination of the two: both infection and curse. Bits of research articles that have trickled down through newspapers and word of mouth have somewhat blurred general opinion. I mention it only because I know it is inevitable that you will encounter such reactions.


	23. July 30, 1994, 11:16am

July 30, 1994, 11:16am

From the few Muggle cases that have been documented, it seems that receiving a bite imbibes a Muggle with a sort of sensitivity to magic they would not have had otherwise. Anti-Muggle and Muggle-Repelling charms, for instance, do not seem to work on the individual after being bitten. 

What this means practically is that you'll likely start to see many things you couldn't before that are specific to the Wizarding world. For example, there is a pub on Charing Cross Road in London you would have never seen, but you will certainly notice now. It is a wizarding pub and entrance to Diagon Alley, a popular magical shopping centre. Also, I would guess that you would have no problem getting through barriers specifically designed to function only for magical people - there is such a barrier at King's Cross, which allows us to hide our section of the train station and stops Muggles from stumbling onto it accidentally

Muggle parents of children who receive invitations to attend Hogwarts are registered and charmed to be exempt from many of these precautions. Similarly, wizards who become romantically involved or married to Muggles often register their spouses as well. This also ensures you won't accidentally be Obliviated (have your memory changed) if you happen to witness a magical event. It sort of authorizes you to be aware of our community.

The difference here is that, as a werewolf, you will not have to be charmed. The magic inherent in the curse makes you, for all intents and purposes, a "magical" person, though I imagine you'll eventually have to register with the Muggle Relations Office so you're listed in the "Do Not Obliviate" directory. Lycanthropy does not offer any natural protection from memory charms.

The author draws some parallels to Squibs, which are non-magical people with magical parents, a rare occurrence in our community. Squibs, while not possessing any magical abilities, seem to nevertheless be unaffected by Muggle-Repelling charms and jinxes. Many of them report they are able to see other Magical Creatures that usually go unnoticed by Muggles even in plain sight.


	24. July 30, 1994, 11:42am

July 30, 1994, 11:42am

We have talked briefly about some of the general side effects of lycanthropy, but the author highlights a few here that seem to be more specific to Muggles, including an increased ability to heal. Wizards in general heal much faster than Muggles do, probably due to a combination of a wizard's own magical abilities and healing spells that work faster and better than most Muggle substitutes. As with the other side effects, this will not take effect until after your first full moon.

The other interesting piece of information here is that, in the few cases where Muggle lycanthropy has been followed and researched, a longer than average life expectancy is observed. Wizards and witches in general live longer than Muggles do; usually around twice as long. It has been observed that Muggles afflicted with lycanthropy seem to fit somewhere in between the two, predictably living to be over a hundred. I'm not sure if you'll consider that a plus or not.

Most of the rest of this you've heard a little about, though there are a few rare side effects listed here that I didn't mention. It's impossible to say which ones you'll wind up with: the combinations are unpredictable, and widely vary from person to person. There are even a few lucky individuals that don't experience any, though it is unusual and I wouldn't suggest pinning your hopes on it.

Some side effects increase in intensity over time as well, while others diminish. It is also possible for particular traits to surface only as the full moon approaches, and disappear when it wanes. I've been reluctant to say too much on the subject for fear of overwhelming you with the possibilities: I think it's simpler to wait and see what, if any, apply to you and go from there. Don't let the things you read in this section worry you too much.


	25. July 30, 1994, 2:16pm

July 30, 1994, 2:16pm

Dear Mr. Stewart:

I apologize for my abrupt departure and for not notifying you that my room had been vacated. Also, I apologize for abandoning my luggage without indication of what might be done with it. An urgent matter came up quite suddenly and unexpectedly, and I hope you will believe that I fully meant to return in a timely manner.

Enclosed is a personal cheque made out for the sum of my bill, including a generous tip amount for your staff. Yet more apologies for not being able to deliver payment myself, but circumstances have demanded that I send this intermediary to clear up my account.

Please release my luggage to this Mr. Remus Lupin, the individual bearing this letter and enclosed payment. If there are any further problems or bills that have accrued since you last contacted me, please allow Mr. Lupin to settle those on my behalf as well.

Thank you for your understanding, and your patience. 

Signed,

Basil Mackenzie 


	26. July 31, 1994

July 31, 1994, 9:13am

Werewolf Registry, Ministry of Magic Level Four, London

Attention Mr. Edgar Tweed:

A Mr. Remus Lupin who registered at the beginning of this month with the Wolfsbane Distribution Program has not yet picked up his doses and may be a threat to public safety.  Please advise immediately if there has been any change in his status.

Madeline Frost

Director, Wolfsbane Distribution Program, St. Mungo's Hospital  
  



	27. August 1, 1994, 7:39am

August 1, 1994, 7:39am

To Mr. Remus Lupin:

It has come to our attention that you have not yet picked up your requested doses of Wolfsbane Potion, which must be taken a minimum of the three days preceding the full moon for full effect. We have sent representatives to your last reported address and you appear to have vacated the premises. 

Immediately advise both of your whereabouts and of the precautions you expect to take on the night of August 6 to ensure the safety of the general public. A reply must be received within the next twenty-four hours so that we may send a representative, if deemed necessary, to inspect and judge if your protective measures are adequate. If you fail to respond in this time, we will be forced to report you to Magical Law Enforcement.

A reminder that the latitude your past behavior has granted you is contingent on your present and future actions, and that your status can be revoked at any time. In signing with the Werewolf Registry, you have agreed to take every possible precaution during the event of the full moon and to advise us of your current place of residence. Any non-compliance with the Registry's policies can be considered an attempt to go underground and will result in fines or charges.

Signed,

Edgar Tweed

Senior Manager, Werewolf Registry, Ministry of Magic


	28. August 1, 1994, 11:19am

August 1, 1994, 11:19am

Care of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Attention Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster:

Sum of 37 Galleons and 16 Sickles is due to be paid within one week of delivery (see attached bill of sale with detail) as per Severus Snape.  The amount due may be transferred directly to vault number 259.

Thank you for your business.

Alban Adler

Alder Apothocary, Diagon Alley, London  
  



	29. August 1, 1994, 2:10pm

August 1, 1994, 2:10pm

Werewolf Registry, Ministry of Magic Level Four, London

Attention Mr. Edgar Tweed:

I am currently staying as guest of Albus Dumbledore at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the same precautions as were taken for the duration of the school year will again be taken on the sixth.  I have neglected to pick up my doses of Wolfsbane because I will be receiving it here, as brewed by a certified Potions Master, one Severus Snape.  My official place of residence still stands correct, though I have spent the vast majority of this month at Hogwarts.

I was not aware I was require to report a change in my supplier; I thought merely that the dose would be given out elsewhere.  I apologize for the confusion.

I will be picking up my doses as scheduled next month.  At that time, all previous documentation of my safety precautions still stand.

Signed,

Remus Lupin

Registrant Number 34-775  
  



	30. August 1, 1994, 6:01pm

August 1, 1994, 6:01pm

Dear Severus,

Do please join me for a nightcap once you've set the Wolfsbane to simmer (which, if memory serves, it must do for a good twelve hours undisturbed) in my office where it would be my delight to discuss some recent correspondence with Mr. Adler with you over a rousing game of wizard chess and a bag of lemon drops.  

It seems the good Mr. Adler has forgotten that he sold us a fine silver cauldron only months ago that is still quite serviceable and, obviously in a hope to ensure we still had all the necessary supplies, included another for our convenience.  What a thoughtful man!  I have kept it aside in my office so that we might return it to him in as fine a condition as he delivered it.

I hope you find your rooms well.

Very sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore  
  



	31. August 2, 1994

August 2, 1994, 9:15am

Adler Apothecary, Diagon Alley, London

Please disclude returned Silver Standard Size 7 Cauldron on the attached bill and resend to Headmaster Albus Dumbledore.  No doubt you find the condition of it acceptable for return.

Restocking fees may be charged on the same bill.

Signed,

Severus Snape  



	32. August 5, 1994

August 5, 1994, 9:14pm

Dear Padfoot;

I'm glad you're keeping well and that neither you nor Buckbeak has eaten the other. I'm sure Buckbeak doesn't mind your restlessness, since he spent most of the past year tethered to a post in the pumpkin patch. He's probably as grateful as you are for the chance to stretch his wings.

The Ministry and the Registry will be what they are as long as people are still afraid of werewolves, and to be honest I can hardly blame them when I've spent most of my life terrified of myself as well. The Wolfsbane has helped in ways I can't even begin to fully explain. It gives me access to the thing I was most afraid to lose to the full moon: control. My sanity, really.

The Muggle woman's name is Basil (very specifically pronounced the American way, she would be quick to add) and she's doing quite well physically. She's been moved from the hospital wing into guest quarters, and Madame Pomfrey is going to visit her sister for a few days off-grounds, so I would take that as a sign she's more or less recovered.

Mentally… I'm not quite sure. She seems to be taking it well, but I suppose it's difficult to maintain any kind of solid disbelief when Dumbledore is transfiguring chairs out of thin air right in front you. I'm not sure she really believes any of this yet, not really – especially the lycanthropy. Sometimes it strikes me tat she's just waiting to wake up from a dream. 

She's in good spirits, however, and I enjoy spending time with her which I find myself doing at great length. She's very personable; I think you and she would get on quite well. Her sense of humour would appeal to you.

In any event, the fairy tale will unravel after the full moon on the sixth when she actually has to experience it, and then I guess we'll see for sure. My instincts tell me she'll make it through all right. We'll both take the potion and I'll stay with her for her first time. That will be a bit odd for me, and to be honest I'm not really looking forward to it, but I think me being there will reassure her a little, might make her panic less. It's… well, it's a very personal thing and sort of an emotional thing and having someone watch (or even watching someone else) doesn't sit well with me. It feels… indecent, I suppose. Shameful.

I'm happy you've heard from Harry. He was quite down when I saw him last just before I left the school in June, what with Wormtail getting away and you back on the run. He's a real pleasure, and more like James than you know. It was odd sometimes (and occasionally confusing) being his teacher and not his friend. I never could keep you and James in line, and it was often the most ridiculous feeling telling Harry off and actually have him listen, especially with that uncanny physical resemblance to James. Obviously, not being many years older than you was where I went wrong. You probably wouldn't believe it, but I have a very convincing 'teacher voice' now that I've had a taste of proper authority. Not that I expect it would have any affect on you. Come to think of it, it would probably just encourage you.

I've got an interview on the 30th in Cornwall with the Research Centre, and I'm quite optimistic about it. They've published several positive papers on werewolves, and they seem to be quite open-minded, so I feel I have a very good chance. It's a lot of stuff you would undoubtedly find horribly boring, but there's also some field work involved which would be a nice change. They seem quite interested in me, and I'm hoping for the best.

Keep in touch, Padfoot. And don't hesitate to ask for help if you get into trouble. If you end up settling down in one spot for any length of time, I could apparate in with food or supplies or whatever it is you need. The less thieving you have to do, the better, and Dumbledore agrees with me. If you hear anything about Wormtail, please let us know instead of just running off after him yourself. He's got a lot to answer for, and answering for it in a public forum is the only way you'll ever get your life back. Just… remember that.

Moony 


	33. August 7, 1994

August 7, 1994, 11:56pm

Dear Mr. Lupin:

Thank you for coming all the way to Cornwall for an interview last Monday and for your interest in joining our team.

Unfortunately, despite your ability and obvious expertise, we are regrettably unable to offer you a position with us. Some information which you neglected to disclose has come to our attention during a routine background check.

While we at the Magical Creature Research Centre have no specific policy of discrimination against lycanthropes, there is a concern among the research community that, since werewolves are regulated and partially classified as "Magical Beasts", wizards with the condition are afflicted with a potentially problematic bias. In this particular circumstance, your expertise in Dark Creatures would put you in direct contact with other lycanthropes. We believe that it would be both unfair and inappropriate to put you in the position of observing and analysing your fellows.

Further, our schedules do not lend themselves to a lycanthrope's needs; some of our field work is timed specifically with the phases of the moon.

I wish to thank you again for your interest and the time you took to come and meet us here. I regret that your condition makes us unable to bring you on in any formal capacity, and wish you better luck in future endeavors.

Regards,

Bertrand Turcotte

 

***

 

Authors Note: I warned you it might be a while between updates. Aside from contract work monopolizing my time, I also wanted to get this clear through the seventh of August and past the first full moon for fear of not including something that might be important and then not being able to add it in. What an annoying side effect of a work-in-progress, not being able to add bits in previous sections and trusting everyone to start from scratch at every update. Ah well, it's an adventure, right?

Reviews are always appreciated, as are comments, criticism, flames and general harassment. 


	34. August 8, 1994

August 8, 1994, 10:41am

Basil:

I hope you're doing all right. I stopped by your room this morning, but Poppy was still standing guard and wouldn't let me in to see you yet — I imagine you were asleep anyway. I know Dumbledore managed to fight his way past her yesterday; he mentioned he spoke with you briefly, but that you weren't entirely coherent yet. 

The worst of it should be over when you wake up, but if you're anything like me it will probably be sore going for another day. I've left some balm with Poppy: the mint in it will make your eyes water, but I find it's quite good at soothing the aches after the moon.

I'll stop by again this afternoon, but I do understand if you're not ready to talk just yet. There's no rush, but I'd like to at least pop my head through the door and see you if you don't mind. If you don't feel up for company yet, I won't stay. Let me know when you're ready, and we can talk some more about Monday night and anything else that has come up since. I'm sure you have more questions, and I will try to answer them as best I can.

Remus


	35. August 9, 1994

August 9, 1994, 11:06am

Muggle Relations Office, New Row, London

Dear Mary Bytheway,

Another school year is fast approaching, and it is once again time to send invitational letters to a new round of talented and eager young children. As in the past, I am delighted to cooperate with the Muggle Relations Office in the hand delivery of letters to the Muggle-born children on our list — some fourteen names this year — and in the matter of explaining to bemused Muggle parents the nature of their child's unusual gifts. I trust, Miss Bytheway, that you will take to the job with your usual industrious enthusiasm.

I will be stopping by your office on Monday morning so that we might meet and discuss this year's Muggle-born strategy. I might perhaps be accompanied by another individual whom your office will be interested in meeting, if they are available.

Very sincerely yours,

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore

PS: Assure your sister that I shall bring with me — as always — a selection of Chocolate Frogs, one of which I hope contains that coveted Chocolate Frog Card of myself she has yet to add to her personal collection. Should she prove victorious, I would be pleased to sign it for her to commemorate the moment.


	36. August 10, 1994, 9:15pm

August 10, 1994, 9:15pm

From: Basil Mackenzie  
To: Margaret Wallace  
Cc:  
Subject: I'm home! (about time too…)

Forgive me for not stopping by, but I'm exhausted and wanted nothing more than to curl up on my own sofa and do something boring like fall asleep watching infomercials and Monty Python reruns.

My holiday was an excessive journey on the other side of crazy, but I've made it through in one piece (hurray!). I think I'm holiday-ed out, to tell you the honest truth. It was fun and a glorious adventure, but I'm quite ready to be completely ordinary again thank you very much. Who knew a long holiday would be so much work?

I heard from Geoffrey Pound at Middlemiss and I'm in! It's going to be so nice to work normal hours for a while. I mean, I love working in the theatre, but the hours are horribly schizophrenic. I'm looking forward to a nice, simple, nine-to-five job with less impossible deadlines and more opportunity for a normal social life. The fact that I get to do that and continue to costume (hurrah for not having to work as a tailor!) is practically an impossible dream. You can't find a job like this in the states, you know — the closest thing is working contract seasons with a larger theatre, and even then you've got to try and fill the summers with other contracts. Both of these always include long work days and loads of nights. I think I might keep a lookout for a few smaller companies that might need a costume designer for smaller shows, but I'm not going to be frantic about it. We'll see what comes along.

Are you available next weekend? There's still the second bedroom to tackle over here — my grandfather filled it with God knows what, and I'd really like to set it up as a sewing room. Grandpa was such a ridiculous packrat — I mean, I _knew_ that but I didn't _really know_ how bad it was until I had to sift through it all. Did you know I found a stack of newspaper from the early 80s in a box in the closet? Not even clippings — whole newspapers, folded neatly on top of the other for the entire month of April. I love my grandfather, but he was completely off his trolly.

I'll stop by tomorrow, if you're going to be home. Ring me and let me know -- maybe we'll have dinner?

Your wayward traveler,

Basil


	37. August 10, 1994, 2:21pm

August 10, 1994, 2:21pm

Dear Headmaster,

Is it really the middle of August already? Good grief.

Sue and I are always happy to help smooth the way for new Muggle-borns — that's half the reason we both took jobs at Relations you know, after the absolutely ridiculous handling of my Muggle-bornness by Professor Snape. Really, what were you thinking, sending him off to terrorize innocent, unwary Muggles like that? I mean, Professor McGonagall or Professor Sprout I understand, but Professor _Snape_? My parents very nearly didn't let me attend after that visit -- I mean, who in their right mind would want their child to go away to school and come back like _that_? You should have seen their panic-stricken faces when he muttered he was obliged to take me shopping for school supplies if my parents didn't feel up to the task. The answer was a resounding (and I think ultimately relieving) _no_.

We'll expect you Monday morning. I'll put on a pot of our very best tea.

Mary Bytheway

Liaison, Muggle Relations Office

PS: Thanks for adding that cryptic little bit in your last about someone we'd be interested in meeting. I told Sue, and her head nearly exploded from curiosity — you know how she gets (I'm quite sure that's why you added it) and she's near convinced you're bringing that handsome bloke from The Weird Sisters by. She's also convinced that her curse will finally be ended with the chocolate frogs you've promised, and has been walking around the office saying things like "this is _it!_ " and staring longingly at the hole in her card collection tacked to her cubical wall. In the meantime, since you last wrote I've found another three of your cards, and have added them to _my_ collection on _my_ cubical wall, where your face now watches me work a record-breaking thirty-seven times. Sue twitches just walking past them — who'd have thought Elaina Juniper's curse would turn out to be this delightfully funny!


	38. August 11, 1994, 10:38am

August 11, 1994, 10:38am

From: Margaret Wallace  
To: Basil Mackenzie  
Cc:  
Subject: Re: I'm home! (about time too…)

You rotter, I'm off in Seattle until Wednesday on business. Trust you to come home (finally — good God woman, I was about to file you as a missing person) right when I get sent away to the states for a conference. There's nothing like spending a perfectly good weekend getting rained on while listening to stodgy old men drone on about the where-fors and why-tos of International Law and being completely unable to find a decent cup of tea. Seriously, how did you manage living over here for thirteen years? It's unbearable. People keep trying to force coffee on me every five minutes. Did you know there's this business called "Starbucks" that appears to have invaded Seattle and started to reproduce like rabbits? It's an infestation.

So, how was the holiday? I want _all_ the details, every twist and turn. Did you meet any interesting men I should know about? And — more importantly — does he have a nice-looking friend who might be interested in an overly tall, leggy lawyer? But seriously, Basil, I hardly heard from you at all, and when I did all you gave me was "oh, lovely time, good fun, pip pip" and I've been ready to crack from suspense ever since you extended your vacation. So out with it! Catch me up on your trip up north.

Yes, fine, I'll help you sort through more of your grandfather's house. What an inheritance… I mean, you got a house and that's well and good, but all that extra stuff that came inside it is a bit ludicrous. Can you imagine if your Mum was still alive? I mean, I remember her being just as bad. Probably wouldn't have let you throw away anything. It would have been a _sentimental_ box of April newsprint. It's a good thing she married your dad who throws away everything, or you might have ended up just like her, and think what the house might have been like if you added another eighty years worth of junk into it. You probably wouldn't have been able to get up the stairs.

I'm back early Wednesday evening — are you free for a late dinner? I'll need company to keep me up so I'm not seriously jet-lagged the next morning, and one of the girls at work gave me a curry recipe I've been meaning to try out (and I swear I will keep it to a mild curry this time so as not to burn more holes in your tongue).

I shall be awaiting the detailed summation of your holiday on pins and needles. Don't even think of denying me.

Welcome home!

Margaret


	39. August 11, 1994, 6:06pm

August 11, 1994, 6:06pm

From: Basil Mackenzie  
To: Margaret Wallace  
Cc:  
Subject: Re: I'm home! (about time too…)

I'm most certainly _not_ going to sit here for three hours and type out a synopsis of my _two month_ holiday for you; after the first hour and a half, I would begin to suffer from carpal tunnel syndrome and have to wear wrist splints for weeks. You've waited this long, surely you can wait another couple of days — and then you'll have the whole thing in person with plenty of opportunity for your patented interruptions and random questions. 

Curry Wednesday sounds fine; how about I come over around eight? They aren't making you work on Thursday after flying all day Wednesday, are they? Something tells me it will be a late night.

Basil


	40. August 12, 1994

August 12, 1994, 3:22pm

From: Margaret Wallace  
To: Basil Mackenzie  
Cc:  
Subject: Re: I'm home! (about time too…)

Fine. Don't tell me. Kill me with the suspense why don't you. Drag it out for as long as possible. You're intolerable!

I've got the rest of the week off because I've had to work all this weekend, so I'm not concerned about an early morning on Thursday. All the better to get every last detail. I'm fairly certain there's some sort of _man_ involved, you know. Women don't just extend their holidays on a _whim_ unless that whim has deep blue eyes and a firm and squeezable buttocks. Won't you just give me his name? A little teaser to tide me over until Wednesday? Come on, just a little hint!

Make it eight-thirty on Wednesday. My flight doesn't land until seven, and I'll still have to clear customs. If it's late, I'll give you a ring and let you know by how much. Have a late lunch — it'll probably be nine before we eat.

Margaret


	41. August 13, 1994, 2:32pm

August 13, 1994, 2:32pm

Daily Prophet Office, Diagon Alley, London

Dear Mr. Wilford Reuben:

Please accept this letter of interest as application for the open position of academic correspondent. 

Having attained professorships in Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts several years ago, I have continued to keep abreast of the latest academic and magical developments through journals, correspondence, and regular monthly attendance of Spellcaster's Monthly Seminars in London. I feel my interest in academic achievements and my ability to translate scholarly work into laymen terms would make me an ideal candidate for this position. 

I have attached for your review several examples of my written work that I feel would be appropriate for the column, as well as my Curriculum Vitae and several references. I would appreciate the opportunity for an interview at your convenience.

Thank you for your consideration.

Sincerely Yours,

Remus Lupin


	42. August 13, 1994, 8:01pm

August 13, 1994, 8:01pm

From: Mary Bytheway  
To: Basil Mackenzie  
Cc: Susan Bytheway  
Subject: Lunch and Your Mobile

Hello Basil!

Lee just informed me he'll be done with your mobile by the end of the day Tuesday, so it'll be ready for you to pick up any time on Wednesday. 

I'd ask how your trip to the Registry went, but our office just received a scathing letter from Edgar Tweed about having given you a card without consulting him first. Don't worry about it, though — Orest despises Tweed, and is at this moment penning a letter back (with some malicious enthusiasm) outlining the exact policies and procedures our office is bound to follow, wherein it absolutely _does not_ state anything about denying Muggle's cards on the basis of lycanthropy. Our whole office is on your side, so that you know, and the Registry can go hang.

Speaking of, Sue and I were wondering if you might like to have lunch on Wednesday, seeing as you've got to stop by anyway. We could write off the afternoon and "liaise" with you a bit, show you around Diagon Alley (the premier magical shopping centre in London) and get to know each other. We don't often get to meet Muggles a little closer to our age — they're usually parents and in their forties before we get to them. You're sort of an unusual case for us, really, and Dumbledore's already done most of our work for us getting you up to speed on our world, so we just thought we'd try and help you get more comfortable with it if you'd like.

Feel free to email either Sue or I at any time — I'm sure this way is much less bothersome for you than owls would be, and at Relations we stay current with the Muggle ways of doing things. Let me know about lunch — we were thinking a late one, perhaps around one?

Mary Bytheway

Liaison, Muggle Relations Office

PS: Sue says "hi", tells you not to take any guff from the Registry and to "stick it to the man", and begs you to take us up on lunch so she has an excuse to get off early on Wednesday afternoon and do some shopping. Here, here!


	43. August 14, 1994, 11:51am

August 14, 1994, 11:51am

From: Basil Mackenzie  
To: Margaret Wallace  
Cc:  
Subject: Re: I'm home! (about time too…)

Oh for God sakes, there doesn't always have to be a _man_ , you know. It's not like I spent the last month in some kind of Harlequinesque romance novel, sorry to disappoint. I made friends, obviously, but I didn't get _friendly_ with any of them. Just because _you_ are amazon-like with your impressive height and legs that go up to there and have a terrible habit of kidnapping poor, hapless men into your bed that just happen to cross your path and dare to be at all attractive doesn't make it the standard to follow. 

There was no _man_. I mean, I met a few very nice men (also some women, but this conversation makes me think you're less interested in them) and made some very interesting friends, but there was no _man_ , firm buttocks or otherwise. Besides, why would I have bothered to keep such a tall, dark and handsome catch a secret and miss a perfectly good bragging opportunity?

I'm crushing the _man_ dream right now, firmly and finally, or I'll be badgered with twenty emails a day from you. No _man_. 

Eight-thirty is fine — I'm going to meet some people for a late lunch on Wednesday anyway, so it will all work out perfectly!

Basil

PS: NO MAN!


	44. August 14, 1994, 12:17pm

August 14, 1994, 12:17pm

From: Basil Mackenzie  
To: Mary Bytheway  
Cc: Susan Bytheway  
Subject: Re: Lunch and Your Mobile

Lunch sounds great, and I admit it would be nice to spend some more time with magical people who aren't made maddeningly superior or woefully terrified by my presence after yesterday. I'll stop by your office on New Row around half past noon. Do you mind terribly if I invite Remus Lupin along? (That is, if I can figure out how to get a hold of him.) I got to know him during my stay at Hogwarts, and we've sort of become friends. He's… similarly afflicted, and I'm sure he'd be pleased to meet a few people who don't seem to care, seeing as there appear to be more than enough that do. One can never have too many allies in the fight against stupidity.

See you tomorrow.

Basil


	45. August 14, 1994, 1:29pm

August 14, 1994, 1:29pm

From: Margaret Wallace  
To: Basil Mackenzie  
Cc:  
Subject: Re: I'm home! (about time too…)

Spoilsport. I can't believe you went off for two whole months and didn't get in a good shag. What a waste! 

Hang on, who're you doing lunch with, then? Hmm… methinks the lady doth protest too much, perhaps…

Margaret


	46. August 14, 1994, 2:42pm

August 14, 1994, 2:42pm

From: Basil Mackenzie  
To: Margaret Wallace  
Cc:  
Subject: Re: I'm home! (about time too…)

You are impossible. Completely, utterly impossible. And now, no matter what I say you'll think Something Is Up. Rock, meet Hard Place. 

Fine. Think what you like — God knows there's no convincing you now. I hope the man I spent my holiday shagging senseless in your version of reality meets with your approval. I'm sure the alternate dimension Me and Whim (that's what I'm going to call him now) had a lovely time in whatever cliché romantic comedy your twisted mind has constructed.

See you on Wednesday. 

Basil

PS: Sadly, Whim will be unable to join us for dinner, as he is busy planning for our Dating Montage wherein we shall do a series of Impossibly Romantic Things to the tune of a Quirky Yet Upbeat Pop Song. He sends his regards.


	47. August 14, 1994, 3:02pm

Tuesday, August 14, 1994, 3:02pm

From: Mary Bytheway  
To: Basil Mackenzie  
Cc: Susan Bytheway  
Subject: Re: Lunch and Your Mobile

Mr. Lupin is welcome to join us — the more the merrier!

Until tomorrow,

Mary Bytheway

Liaison, Muggle Relations Office


	48. August 14, 1994, 3:26pm

Tuesday, August 14, 1994, 3:26pm

Dear Basil;

I'm sure you're happy to be in your own home again, after everything that's happened. I know it's only been a few days, but I did promise to keep in touch and I was wondering how your appointment at the Muggle Relations Office and the Registry went with Dumbledore yesterday. I've never met anyone at Muggle Relations, but I do know most of the staff at the Registry don't have very nice bedside manners. I'd hope they weren't too rude except that it's probably too much to wish for, so I'll hope instead that the people at the Muggle Relations Office were nicer, because that feels a much more realistic expectation. Please don't judge the magical community too harshly based on whatever horrible experience you might have had yesterday — we're mostly perfectly nice people.

How's your eyesight been the last couple of days? I know you were concerned that being permanently red/green colour-blind would be a handicap in your line of work, but it seemed to be getting better for you on Thursday and Friday. Hopefully by now it's gone completely and you've one less thing to worry about, though it's possible you'll have to endure a few days of colour-blindness after every moon from now on.

I hope you're settling into your newfound sense of smell all right, too. I remember it took some getting used to, but rest assured you _will_ get used to it. As side-effects of lycanthropy go, it's the most common and among the easiest to live with, though I'd suggest staying out of perfumeries and fish markets as they can be a bit of a sensory overload (and not in a good way). It can even be useful; it will be much more difficult for people to sneak up on you now, especially from upwind. At school, my friends made it a game to see if they could surprise me and they very rarely won. That may sound like a small triumph, but you never knew my friends…

Feel free to stop by if and whenever you like — apart from having to break unwelcome news to you, I thoroughly enjoyed your company last month and would like to think we've started to become friends. If you'd like to send a reply back, just let the owl know and he'll wait for it — it's been prepaid both ways. Otherwise, just send him off and I'll use the credit later.

Remus


	49. August 14, 1994, 9:10pm

Tuesday, August 14, 1994, 9:10pm

Dear Remus,

That owl is _staring_ at me.

I did what you said and told it (very politely, I thought, but how does one talk to an owl, really?) that I'd like to reply straightaway if it wouldn't mind waiting. I closed the window just incase, because no matter how sure you sounded in your letter, I'm not quite convinced it really understands me and I have absolutely no idea how to write you back if it flies off. Then it sort of scowled at me. Are owls even capable of scowling? I swear it is, it's doing it right now as I write this.

I'm a little worried it's going to go on my kitchen table out of spite. Are these post owls house-trained? It looks like it could leave a sizable mess. 

This is insane. I can't believe I'm sitting in my own kitchen being stared at by an owl. It's been easy to believe it was a funny little dream since I've been home and not surrounded by paintings that move and talk, elves wearing tea towels, and ghosts that throw water balloons, but then this owl shows up tapping on my window and reminds me like a hammer to the head that I've got nasty scars all over my arms and that magic is real and I'm a werewolf.

You know, that's the first time I've really said it plainly like that. I'm a werewolf. I, Basil Anne Mackenzie, am a werewolf. I just said it out loud, too. It feels quite ridiculous to be saying things like this and _meaning_ them in my very normal kitchen. The owl staring at me doesn't help. 

My home smells… funny. I keep spraying air freshener, but then it just smells like funny covered with imitation lilac. I can tell it's imitation lilac because it smells a bit like a lilac would if it were made of metal and soaked in cheap perfume, which is decidedly different than the actual lilacs in the park that smell alive and not at all like wet tin. I almost took the can back for a refund before I realized how crazy _that_ explanation would sound to the clerk.

I think the strange smell in my house is just mostly… me. I mean, there's a few different things mixed in — like gravel and damp towels and leftover tea from the cup in the sink and dust from being away so long — but I think I'm just sort of smelling myself on everything. And a little of my grandfather, maybe, underneath it all. That smell is stronger in the spare bedroom I hadn't the time to clean and air out before I went on holiday, and that's his very last stronghold, so it makes sense.

Well, as much sense as any of this does.

The owl just chirped at me. Or hooted. Or something. Is that a bad sign? Is there some sort of time limit I'm supposed to respect? I think these post owls ought to come with explicit directions for a first-time user. 

My eyesight seems to have returned to normal again, for which I am extremely relieved. Red never looked so good as it did on Saturday morning when I woke up to the wonderful, bright red numbers on my alarm clock, and then I went to the park for a walk just to properly appreciate all the different shades of green. 

Did you know city tree smell different than the ones in the country? I mean, there's tree under there certainly, but there are layers of exhaust and pigeon and cement and wet newsprint. At Hogwarts, they just smelled like trees. Everything's piled one over the other here, where things at Hogwarts were much simpler, but somehow richer. I can't get over how many layers of smell everything has.

Anyway, I was talking about my sight before I got sidetracked. I suppose I can handle a few days being colour-blind a month. I mean, I'm not thrilled, but I just keep thinking about all the other possible side-effects and it doesn't seem all that bad by comparison. It makes crossing the street a little more of an adventure some days, but I'll manage.

Monday went… well, it went. I'm glad Dumbledore took me to the Muggle Relations Office first, or I would have been absolutely terrified to go in after the Registry. The people I met at the Muggle Relations Office were quite nice; pleased to meet me and very enthusiastic. A pair of sisters work there — Mary and Susan Bytheway — and they were especially kind, even after they found out about the lycanthropy. Mary helped me fill out the forms while Dumbledore talked with the manager — a very patient man by the name of Orest Millering — about the new Muggle-born Hogwarts students.

I'm having difficulty getting used to being called a "Muggle". It's a very strange, silly word, and every time someone says it to me I feel a bit of an idiot and a little offended, even when I know it's not meant that way (which, I discovered when we got to the Registry, it sometimes is meant _exactly_ that way). I can't imagine what it must be like being called a "Squib". 

In any event, I'm now a completely registered and card-carrying "Approved Muggle Bystander", and have been assured I will not be made to forget the strange things I see from now on. Their "Muggle Technologies Expert" took my mobile to add some kind of a magical … spell? I don't know what to call it, but apparently they're going to save a couple of numbers to it that I can ring and then I'll disappear and reappear in certain places (a trigger activated portey, or something like that?). I'm supposed to go back and pick up my mobile tomorrow. I don't suppose you'd like to come with me? Mary and Susan offered to show me around some place called Diagon Alley and buy me lunch, and they're very nice but I'd be much more comfortable with it all if someone I knew a little better was with me.

The owl on my table now appears to be napping. Apparently it got tired of scowling at me.

The Registry was… I don't know. They were very terse, and I couldn't tell if it was because I had the audacity to be a Muggle or a werewolf or both at the same time. Dumbledore did most of the talking — thank God — and your name came up a couple of times in what I would call _suspicious tones_ , but Dumbledore was very insistent (and lied through his teeth, if I remember the story you told me about the night I was bit correctly, but even _I_ was starting to be convinced) so I don't think you have anything to worry about. Then there was this entire conversation about the Statute of Secrecy and other bylaws which I confess I didn't quite catch all of, and the Registry Manager — a twitchy, short man by the name of Edgar Tweed — seemed insistent that some very important rule had been broken and that I was going to be a terrible inconvenience to the office. I sort of lost my temper a bit around this time and told him he might remember that, of all the people in the room, _I_ probably had the most right to be put out at what had happened, having almost died and all, and that the inconvenience to their office was significantly less than the inconvenience of having your body rearranged in an extraordinarily painful way once a month. 

I don't think Mr. Tweed likes me very much. 

Dumbledore seemed quite pleased, though, and got quite twinkly in the eye, and in the end they agreed to give me a number. After that I think I signed about fifteen separate forms and have had to agree to let them inspect my "precautions" sometime before the next full moon on the fifth of September. Then we had to go over to St. Mungo's and sign me up for the Wolfsbane Distribution Program, which was a much shorter process but similarly awkward and uncomfortable. 

There was a woman and a young boy passing by when we left the office, and when she saw where we were coming out of, she got this strange, frightened look on her face and hurried the boy along. You warned me a lot of people would react that way if they knew — which makes me so much more thankful for the nice people at the Muggle Relations Office — but it was surprising. I mean, it's not like _I'm_ going to jump across the hall and bite either of them, is it? And with the Wolfsbane, I'm not likely to do it even on the full moon — I mean, isn't that the whole _point_ of the Wolfsbane?

Between that look and the way Mr. Tweed kept saying the word "Muggle", it was not exactly an inspiring day.

Dumbledore came home with me after that and I made him dinner (which seemed to delight him in ways I don't entirely understand, but it was nice to feel liked again after several hours of being… not) and then he wandered around my house waving his wand and muttering things under his breath. Apparently my home now carries the same standard protection spells a magical person's home does (something about appearing and disappearing and those portey things again?) and my windows have all been masked with some kind of anti-Muggle spell so that all they see when they look in the window is an empty room, no matter what's happening. I have come to the decision that this is a good thing after the very odd look I got from my neighbor when she saw me letting a tall, long-bearded man in purple robes into my house. Between conspicuously dressed wizards and lycanthropy, I have managed to be frowned at by both magical and non-magical parties in the space of a single afternoon.

I don't want you to think I'm ungrateful — you and Poppy and Dumbledore have been so wonderfully kind to me this past month, and I can't thank any of you enough — but I had my first taste of some of the things you warned me about, and it was a little disheartening. On top of that, my friend Margaret is home tomorrow and I'm not sure what to tell her about the last half of my holiday. I'm going to have to explain these scars — I seriously considered committing to long sleeves for the rest of my life just to get out of it — and I'm not sure I can do that without telling her the whole truth (which I can't do, now that I've signed forms in triplicate stating I won't) or constructing a precarious month-long story of lies (which terrifies me because I'm a _horrible_ liar). 

Anyway, I hope you'll agree to spend the afternoon with me tomorrow. Mary and Susan are quite nice and they don't seem to mind the lycanthropy at all, so it shouldn't be too uncomfortable. They're a bit younger than us — I think Mary's in her mid-twenties and Susan must be even a couple of years younger — but they're sweet, if a bit strange. I imagine you'll get this letter fairly quickly — it can't take an owl too long to fly to Leatherhead can it? Write me back and let me know. Or — just incase you don't get this until tomorrow morning — meet me at the corner of New Row and Garrick Street around one.

Forgive the ridiculous length of this letter — I hadn't intended it to be this long, but it sort of got away from me somewhere up there. 

Hope to see you tomorrow!

Basil

PS: How, _precisely_ , does one go about waking an owl and not getting one's finger bitten?

 

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A/N: Phew... I think I doubled the word count in this update! 

I'd just like to pre-empt any cries of "foul!" before the begin at the fact that I've added emails in here, since it wasn't exactly wide-spread in 1994. However, since JKR's world has Playstations in it at this time, I figured perhaps the Muggle world might have been a little faster at inventing these things in her universe, so I've decided it's as canon and believable as anything else. Likewise with the cell phones.

Also, I anticipate in very short order that the frequency of letters will come down, and we'll see more and more time lapses between them. I knew the section between Basil waking up and Margaret getting home would be a bit of a free-for-all, but things should ease up a little now. Hopefully.


End file.
